


Retribution

by Tridraconeus



Category: Dead By Daylight
Genre: Age Difference, Anal Sex, Crossfaction, Daddy Kink, M/M, Pain Kink, Spanking, Wild West AU, bad lube decisions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-20
Updated: 2020-02-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:04:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22811383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tridraconeus/pseuds/Tridraconeus
Summary: Everyone in the small town of Glenvale knows better than to cross Sheriff Caleb Quinn.Everyone except Jake Park.
Relationships: Jake Park/Caleb Quinn | The Deathslinger
Comments: 15
Kudos: 138





	Retribution

**Author's Note:**

> greasy gross old cowboy: yeehaw  
> me and approx. 500 other ppl in the dbd community: oh hot

Four years ago, a gold-mining operation suffered a catastrophic cave-in that orphaned and widowed two dozen. At the time, Caleb had been sheriff for five years already— brought order to the wild town of Glenvale, brought it respect. It was little more than a stopover town for richer towns or for tired ranchers to get a drink and chat, but corruption was all but stamped out and some of the widows decided to stay— some even found love again, and all brought a tinge of color to the dry Arizona town. The orphans mainly left. 

Those that stayed became ranch hands, worked in the saloon or the town’s one hotel, or otherwise made the most of their situation.

Jake Park was one of those orphans, and he’d turned to outlawry. He’d been fifteen when his father died in the mine; he worked down there, too, hauling sticks of dynamite or putting up mineshafts. He hadn’t been in the mine the day it happened. 

Nobody wanted to take him in, either, and the company that owned the mine split. Everyone was scrambling. _Caleb_ had been scrambling, and had no spare attention for the quiet boy. If only he had, maybe Jake Park wouldn’t have become such a menace. 

—

“Stop! _Thief!”_ It was a male voice, older, British. Caleb grabbed his harpoon gun and sprinted out of the sheriff’s building, skidding onto the street. It was around eight in the morning, when a coal official was coming to meet with the mayor of Glenvale about repurposing the mines. Caleb had a sinking idea he knew who the thief was. 

Sure enough, Jake sprinted across the Main Street in a blur of green away from a portly man in a suit. Caleb gave chase. Nobody could catch Jake Park— he was quiet, and wicked fast, and if you looked away for even a second he’d be hiding somewhere and you’d never find him. 

He’d given Caleb reason to catch him. 

It would be easy to hit him through the back. That was a clear, simple way of communicating the law. 

Caleb didn’t not like Jake, though, and at this point if the coal official had gotten robbed in broad daylight in Main Street he probably deserved it, the city-slicker. 

He aimed up instead and shot a pile of crates. They came tumbling down in Jake’s path, slowing him just enough for the short chase to end and for Caleb to seize him by the scruff.

“You’ve done it now, Park.” He dragged Jake by a handful of his scarf and shirt back to Main Street, where the coal official was standing with his arms crossed. Caleb _already_ didn’t like him, but the law was the law. “Give me what you stole.”

Jake wordlessly reached into his pants and withdrew a tin of chewing tobacco. Caleb snatched it from him and tossed it to the coal official, nodding sharply once and turning to walk off with Jake in tow. 

“ _I’ll_ deal with him!” He barked when he heard footsteps behind him; they stopped, and started again in the opposite direction. The way he was holding Jake forced him to walk along half-bent, pressed to Caleb’s side. They reached the sheriff’s building and Caleb took them further inside, shutting the door and dragging Jake to the lounge area. It had a beat-up couch and a few wooden stools, a wood stove, and a cabinet. The other sheriffs were busy, or out. 

Caleb would have to deal with Jake by himself. He was looking forward to that.

“Now, boy, what were you thinking?” 

Jake crossed his arms and halfheartedly tugged away. Caleb tightened his grip, tutting in disapproval.

“Not happy your little tricks don’t work with me, huh?”

Still no response. Caleb curled his lip. “Well, if you’re gonna keep pulling childish, _juvenile_ stunts like this, I’m gonna just have to treat you like a child.”

That made Jake stiffen and attempt to look at him, but Caleb was stronger and more clued in to what was about to happen than Jake. He dragged him back and dropped onto the couch, wrangling Jake roughly over his lap. Jake twisted and tried to free himself— he had no luck, winning only his wrist pinned to the small of his back.

“You gonna make this hard for me, boy? ‘Cause I can make it _real_ hard for you if you wanna play those games.”

Jake breathed out hard and went limp. He was brazen, but even he knew better than to keep struggling in a position like this. 

Caleb waited a full five seconds to make sure he wouldn’t try to bolt for it, then roughly yanked his pants down. 

Jake’s rear was rightfully paler than the rest of him, though not clear of scars or burns; nobody who went into the mines came out untouched. He was tense, anticipating, if not sullen for having been hauled over Caleb’s lap like a child when he was a full-grown adult— Caleb wasted no time in swatting him so hard a loud crack filled the room. An imprint of Caleb’s hand near-immediately took shape on Jake’s ass. Jake remained silent. His jaw clenched.

“Don’t know why no-one’s tanned your damn hide earlier,” Caleb told him. Might do Jake some good— better (worse?) than that, it was a pretty sight. 

He knew better than to expect a response and set into a rhythm instead. Jake kept himself quiet, breathing out in short, staccato gasps when the impact of Caleb’s hand went from insistent but bearable to a full-strength spanking.

Caleb let go of his hand, letting Jake grab the rickety couch for support. He’d expected Jake to have slid off of his lap like an unhooked fish, and Caleb would have let him run, lesson learned. Learned, if not sticking-- he could always take it upon himself to give Jake a refresher.

Jake didn’t free himself, though. His body was tense and his ass was a painful, glowing shade of red, but he just laid there and took it. His hips twitched at a particularly painful swat and Caleb felt something hard nudge into his lap.

“Well, well, _well_.” He chuckled, nudging Jake’s far leg off of his lap. His cock was hard and leaking on Caleb’s pants, leaving a darker blotch against dark denim. Jake exhaled harshly and his leg twitched like he was considering closing his legs; a light swat to the inside of his thigh dissuaded him. “What do we have here? Does little Jake Park like getting his comeuppance?” 

Instead of spanking him again, Caleb grabbed a handful of a reddened cheek, spreading him apart and digging his fingers in. Jake hissed at the burn, shoulders tensing, and stubbornly refused to respond. That was fine. Caleb chuckled again, gave him a parting squeeze, and laid a swat right on the very same side.

That made him groan. It was soft, bitten-off, but much more than anyone else had ever gotten out of Jake Park. 

That, and the knowledge that Jake was getting far more than a punishment out of this, made him stiffen in his denims as well. By the way Jake’s hands tightened their grip in the couch cushions, he felt it too. “Well, boy, one would think this ain’t doing much to set you on the straight and narrow. Was thinkin’ of bedding you down if you didn’t straighten up after this-- now I’m thinkin’ I should just bed you.”

They sat there for a few long moments, Jake’s chest rising and falling as he brought himself back under control. Caleb was a second away from shoving him off of his lap and telling him to scram when Jake shifted and looked back at him.

“Fish or cut bait, Sheriff.” That was Jake’s voice-- a little hoarse. He was a quiet man. His voice never seemed to raise, and he never seemed to feel fear. 

“You little varmint.” Caleb guffawed, and did push Jake off of his lap. He caught him around the waist and pulled him back up onto the couch, manhandling him back onto his belly. “Get comfy, boy.”

Jake squirmed to position himself, letting his legs fall open to take some strain off of his reddened behind. Caleb gave him a parting swat, huffing out a throaty laugh when Jake hissed and angled away. 

There wasn’t much to use as slick in the sheriff’s building, but Caleb had a small bottle of olive oil that was definitely not intended to be used in a sexual encounter that definitely _was_ going to be used in a sexual encounter. He tipped it over Jake’s rear, letting the cold, slick fluid drip down the cleft of his cheeks and into his hole. Some dripped even further, onto his balls. Caleb ignored that and pressed his finger against Jake’s hole, knuckle pushing the oil in. Jake made a softer, sighing noise and turned his face into the arm of the couch, back arching.

“Sheriff--” his voice was still soft without being faint, with a hungry edge that Caleb liked quite a lot.

“Caleb, boy. Call me Caleb,” he urged, working a finger into Jake’s ass.

“Caleb…” Jake sighed, sweet as sweet could be. 

“Yeah. _Just_ like that.” Caleb leaned over him, working a second finger into Jake’s hole. Jake wasn’t putting up any resistance, was still sighing and breathing into the couch cushion. “You ready for me, boy?”

“Yeah.” 

Caleb unbuckled his belt, humming tunelessly as he tossed it over the couch, doing the same with his pants, boots likewise sitting by the couch. He didn’t bother taking off his shirt, but draped his duster over the couch as well.

“Gonna fuck you _real_ good.” He tugged Jake back by the hips, fisting his cock idly a few times with his still-slick hand and guiding the head to Jake’s hole. He slid in easily, following Jake as he leaned back forward until Jake was laying flat against the couch and Caleb’s hips were flush with Jake’s red ass. He gave Jake a few moments to adjust, and himself a few moments to enjoy the clinging heat that came from being inside of Jake, and then started to move. Caleb hadn’t slept with anyone for a long time-- was satisfied with his hand, and usually too busy to seek someone out. He could have taken advantage of any of the poor widows if he cared to, but he was a sheriff, and not a corrupt one. He cared for Glenvale; cared for the people who lived there. Cared for Jake, too, even if he was a little shit. A good fuck, at least.

Jake moaned and bucked his hips up, incapable of finding leverage in his position but indicating that Caleb should speed up. Caleb dug his palms into Jake’s back, pinning him to the couch. He sped up abruptly, not by degrees. Jake gasped-- shoulders pressing up and going nowhere, straining against Caleb’s hands. It made Caleb’s cock jump, made him go harder, reminded him that he was teaching Jake a lesson. 

“Everyone says they let you run wild out of respect for your old man.” He kept his hands on Jake’s shoulders, holding the slim man down. “But they just can’t catch you. But _I_ did. _I_ caught you.” He rammed his hips against Jake’s sore ass hard enough to make the harsh, fleshy clap ring around the room. “So who’s your daddy now, huh?”

Jake squirmed, a raw, pained gasp tearing from his throat. Caleb pushed a hand beneath his body to grasp his cock, stroking him roughly, timing it to each punishing thrust. “That’s right.” 

Jake shuddered, crying out softly, and came wetly all over Caleb’s hand. His hips stuttered and he cried out again, muffled by the rough weave of the couch cushion, wet also with spit. “That’s damn _right._ ”

He spilled himself in Jake in short order, grunting and holding him down until he’d emptied himself fully. “Damn right,” he growled again. He pulled out and dropped to his backside on the couch next to Jake, looking over to see a thin line of cum dripping from Jake’s tanned rear. On impulse, he reached over to give him a lighter swat. Jake hissed at him and rolled off of the couch, rubbing his ass tenderly. 

“Sit on down,” Caleb invited. “Not like this couch hasn’t seen worse.”

Jake eyed him, but sat. Caleb should have a talk with him-- warn him to not slip into old habits. To get a job, a real job, but he already had to have one somehow. He’d be dead by now otherwise. 

He gave a gusty sigh instead. “You’re a damn varmint, you know that?” 

That made Jake crack a rare smile. He pulled his denims over to himself, but didn’t put them on yet-- wanted to spare his sore bottom for as long as he could. “Yeah, Sheriff. I know.”

**Author's Note:**

> to “bed someone down” means to kill them. To “bed someone” means exactly what it sounds like. “Fish or cut bait” basically means “get on with it/don’t let your mouth write a check that your fists can’t cash”  
> comments and kudos are all cherished!


End file.
